Chapter 6 - The Shift in PowerSilence fell over the gym, heavier than the concrete floor beneath our feet.
Frank Moretti stared at me for three long seconds. Then, slowly, he turned his head and looked down at Dustin, who was still groaning on the canvas inside the cage.
Frank's face darkened, a look of profound, cold disgust crossing his features.
"Dustin," Frank said, his voice dropping into a dangerous baritone that made even his armed bodyguards look nervous. "Is this true?"
Dustin lifted his bloody face, whimpering frantically. "Uncle Frank! Kill him! He broke my ribs! He destroyed the gym! Shoot him!"
Frank didn't draw a weapon. He took two steps toward the cage door, stepped inside, and looked down at his nephew.
"I run an organization, Dustin," Frank said softly, leaning on his gold cane. "We control shipping lines, we manage contracts, and we maintain order. I have never, in thirty years, authorized my people to beat young women or threaten their families."
Frank turned back toward me, looking at my calloused hands, taking in my plain flannel shirt and the cold, professional discipline in my eyes.
"You're Force Recon," Frank observed quietly. "I know that look. My brother served two tours in Da Nang. Men like you don't break."
"I served fifteen years training MARSOC operators," I replied. "I came here tonight to handle a personal matter. But if your men raise those weapons, Frank, I guarantee three of them will be dead before the first casing hits the floor."
Frank looked at his six bodyguards holding handguns. He looked back at me, recognizing the absolute, terrifying truth in my statement. A man who had dismantled four professional fighters in five minutes was not a man who feared firearms at close range.
Frank slowly raised his hand and waved his fingers. "Lower the guns. All of you."
The bodyguards hesitated, then lowered their weapons, stepping back toward the entrance.
Frank turned back to Dustin, his face carved from cold granite.
"You used my name to hide your cowardice," Frank told his nephew, every word dripping with ice. "You put a young girl in the hospital and brought a military combat instructor to my doorstep. You are a disgrace to this family."
Frank looked at two of his largest bodyguards. "Drag him out of here. Put him in the back of the sedan. He's leaving the state tonight, and if he ever sets foot in this city again, handle him."
May you like
Dustin let out a high-pitched scream as the two bodyguards grabbed him by his arms, dragging his limp, broken body out of the cage and toward the gym exit. "Uncle Frank! No! Please! Don't do this!"
His shrieks faded into the dark alley outside as the heavy steel doors slammed shut.
